by Jerri Hines
Cullen felt Jo’s hands push back against him as she tried to sit up. Gently, he pressed her back down to his chest. “Don’t. Not yet.” His voice was low and soft. “You’re not going back to prison ever. I gave them my word that you would not reveal what is going on at Magnolia Bluff. That was enough for them to release you.”
“Why would they allow such, Cullen? Why would they take your word for me?”
“Because, as your husband, I could speak for you,” he said bluntly. “Father and Percival will be here in the morning. We will be married tomorrow afternoon.”
“Oh,” she whispered and then silence. They sat in the darkness. Neither said a word. Then she said softly, “You can’t. My reputation must be in shreds with everything that has happened. I can neither go back home nor stay here without whispers and stares. I know Philadelphia…”
“Hush, Josephine. Stop. I know of everything that has happened. It’s my fault. Moreover, I’m not going to throw the mother of my child in the streets.”
He paused. Could he tell her he should have married her so many years ago? He should have taken her off the plantation after Wade died. That it was his biggest regret. But he said nothing.
Tears flowed freely against his chest. She whispered, “If this is what you want, Cullen. I will have my children?”
“Of course.”
She wiped her eyes. “Could we go back to Rosemount? The children would love to go to the countryside and it’s such a beautiful place.”
Cullen’s heart faltered with her remembrance of Rosemount. “I’m still in the Navy, Josephine. I don’t know if I have time to take you there yet. The war shouldn’t last much longer and I do plan to resign after my furlough. Give me some time to settle my affairs.”
Josephine inhaled a steadying breath. “Of course,” she said simply…dispassionately. “I understand.” She turned away. “I believe I will retire.”
As he watched her walk back into her room and shut her door, he said nothing else. Cullen stared at the empty space where she had stood and then he lit back up his cigar. His eyes focused on the glowing tip of the cigar.
Jo had always been full of fire and life, but being in prison had certainly diminished both. And he knew he was to blame. Could she…would she…ever forgive him?
* * * *
Cullen rose early in the morning to take care of a few errands before his father arrived. He had left Josephine a note explaining he would be back shortly. Thankfully, he had been able to get everything accomplished quicker than he first thought.
Walking down the corridor to his room, he reached in his pocket for his key. Suddenly, the door swung open and Josephine bolted out. Startled at his presence, she recoiled, but then recognition lit in her eyes. Smiling broadly, she cried, “They are here! I’ve been waiting at the window. They are here!”
“Whoa!” He laughed and caught her by her waist. By God, she looked beautiful smiling…happy. “They will come upstairs. You will miss them if you go down.”
“I hadn’t thought of that.” She stepped back into the room. Biting her lower lip, her face dropped with a sudden worry. “Do you think Percival will be mad with me or forgotten me?”
Cullen stared at her. Her confidence had all but disappeared. He reached over and touched her face tenderly. “He will be as happy to see you as you him.”
Tears welled in her eyes, but the smile returned when down the corridor a call came out.
“Momma!”
Cullen kept his hand upon Jo’s shoulder as not to have the reunion in the middle of the hall. But nothing could stop the patter of small feet running as fast as he could into the room. Cullen stepped back as the young lad ran in with his arms outreached. Jo clung to her son, hugging him tightly.
A strange nervousness gripped Cullen. He hadn’t seen his son since the day he was born. He couldn’t get a clear view. Percival’s face was hidden against Jo’s shoulder. All he saw was a headful of dark, thick hair after Percival’s hat fell off.
Glancing over at the door, Cullen watched his father walk in, smiling brightly. When he extended his hand to his father, his father shook his head and pulled him into an embrace.
“It’s been too long, son. Too long,” Jonathan said. “Done us proud. Mother has told everyone about your medal of honor.”
“It’s good to see you, too, sir,” Cullen acknowledged. “Thank you for bringing Percival. Jo has been upset being separated from the children.”
Josephine drew her son back to get a good look at him. “You have grown a foot.” She choked back her tears. “I can’t even imagine how much your sister has changed since I’ve last seen her…” Her voice faded; tears flowed.
“Don’t cry, Momma,” Percival said, quite straightforward. “I’m here. I will protect you like I’ve protected Maddy. Isn’t that right, Grandfather?”
Cullen caught Josephine’s eyes widened on the utterance. His father’s face colored a dark shade of red with an apology on his lips for allowing Percival to call him by that name, but it was the young man himself who had Cullen speechless. If there was any doubt of his parentage, it vanished upon the glance. It was like looking into a mirror. Percival had his nose, his chin…his eyes.
Percival stopped suddenly as he caught sight of Cullen in his naval uniform. Instinctively, Percival stepped back into his mother’s arms, as if he was protecting her from him. Josephine smiled softly at her son…their son.
Her head tilted to the side, pointing to Cullen. “Percival, do you know who this is?”
Percival shook his head, but leaned against her. His small hands cupped her face so she could look only at him. “He’s a Yankee.”
“Yes, darling, but you remember when I said there were good Yankees, like Lieutenant McFadden and all the sailors on board the Sovereign?”
He nodded but his eyes were fixed on Cullen. He looked back at his mother.
“He’s your daddy’s cousin from Philadelphia. You remember when I told you the stories of the uncle you were named after? How he and your daddy got into lots of mischief? You remember I told you they had their cousin with them? It was Cullen. Remember I told you how your daddy saved me before we married and his cousin helped him? It was Cullen. He was there the day you were born. And now, Percival, this afternoon, he is to become your father.”
Josephine stood with her hand on her son’s shoulder. She slightly pushed him toward Cullen.
Percival jerked back rebelliously. Then he stepped forward himself. He eyed Cullen from head to toe. “Do you command a ship?”
Cullen knelt down, feeling his heart in his throat. He nodded. “I did. Now though, I feel it’s time to concentrate on my family.”
“You fought my daddy?”
“In the war, we were on different sides, but soon the war will be over. Then we all will be on the same side again and be a united country.”
Percival glanced back at his mother, who nodded to him. He extended his small hand to Cullen. “It is nice to meet you, sir.”
* * * *
In the late afternoon, Cullen exchanged vows with Josephine in a church that he had searched out that morning. Percival was there alongside the man who had already proclaimed himself to be his grandfather. Hugh stood as Cullen’s best man. His father had brought the ring he had requested, a simple gold band, but it had been his grandmother’s. When the preacher pronounced them husband and wife, Cullen leaned down and kissed his bride’s cheek. It was done. She was a free woman and he had his son.
* * * *
A week had passed quickly. Soon Cullen would return to Philadelphia. He couldn’t remember a more pleasant time. Percival had been constantly by his side and seemed quite impressed that his new father commanded a ship, even an enemy ship.
Cullen understood the necessity that dictated that he could never openly proclaim that Percival was truly his son, but he wouldn’t contradict anyone who assumed he was. He took pride in the fact most assumed Percival was his as they walked around the shipyard. Percival was
a handsome lad, if he said so himself, and quite intelligent, too much so at times.
Cullen took Percival aboard the Pailulda, the battleship he had returned on from his tour of duty. Percival climbed up high on the railing in a position Cullen was certain his mother would never approve. Cullen wrapped his arm about Percival’s waist and looked out over the harbor.
“I like ships,” Percival announced. “You like them too.”
“I have all my life. My father commanded ships.”
Percival looked up at him with inquisitive eyes. “Are you my real father?”
Taken back by the question, Cullen answered with a question. “Why do you ask that?”
“Ya’ promise not to tell Momma?”
“If I do not need to tell her, I won’t.”
Percival lowered his gaze for a moment, and then looked back up at Cullen. “When they thought I was sleeping, I hear’ ’em. Auntie Elizabe’ said just look at the boy. He has to be Cullen’s son. You’re Cullen, aren’t ya?”
Cullen nodded his head slowly.
Percival asked again. “Are ya? Are ya my real father?”
“I married your mother. So, yes, I’m your real father,” Cullen said. “I knew your daddy very well. We were like brothers. He was a great man who was brave and courageous and did what many men would not do. I owe him greatly…a debt I can never repay.”
Percival looked up at Cullen. “Can I call you Father?”
“I would like that.”
“I don’t think Momma would care,” Percival said in deep thought. “Momma cries when anyone mentions Daddy…except when that mean man came. He talked about Daddy and scared Momma.”
“Mean man? What mean man?”
Percival fidgeted. “It doesn’t matter anymore. Momma said I was safe. The mean man wanted to hurt me, but Momma shot him.”
Shot him? What did Percival mean? Josephine shot a man? Who? Cullen picked Percival up and placed him on the deck. Kneeling down, he pressed gently, “I need to know what happened, Percival. Do you remember his name?”
“He was so mad at Momma…he grabbed me,” Percival said. “Momma said no Buck no…he hurt me…then Momma shot him.” He shrugged. “He died.”
“Your momma…what did she do then?”
“We left home. Momma said we had to…then Lieutenant McFadden took Maddy and me on his ship with Momma.”
“I’m glad the lieutenant brought you to me,” Cullen told his son. “Your momma is right. You are safe now. All of you are safe. I will make sure of that.”
Percival smiled and reached up to take his new father’s hand. Cullen returned his smile, but if Percival had spoken the truth, there was more going on with Josephine than he first imagined. He would deal with it soon enough. At the moment, he had his son with him…safe away from the dangers at Magnolia Bluff.
* * * *
Windows open, Cullen sat around the table in the hotel suite with his father and Hugh, cigars and drinks in hand. Tomorrow, he would return to Philadelphia with his bride and son. Josephine and Percival had already retired for the night.
“I will have to return to Washington periodically to be kept informed on Magnolia Bluff. With the fall of Atlanta, Sherman will soon begin his sweep across Georgia. I want to ensure that Magnolia Bluff does not meet the same fate as what is in store for those in his path.”
“So it is official, you have resigned your commission?” Jonathan asked.
“I’m done. Farragut accepted my resignation.” Cullen let smoke trail in a circle above his head. “I want to thank both of you for all you have done. I can’t begin to tell you how—”
“Then don’t.” Hugh clasped Cullen’s shoulder. “Don’t like blubbering idiots when they drink too much and are too damn happy.”
“Well, you’re going to have to listen to me once more saying that I’m indebted to you,” Cullen exclaimed. “If not for you, Hugh, I’m certain that the scheme would have backfired. It still could. We still need to tread carefully, especially now with Andrew supplying the information we are seeking.”
“It is a brave thing Andrew is doing. Taking over where Mitchell left off. He is bearing a lot on his shoulders.”
“Andrew knows the risks, Mr. Smythe,” Hugh said. “He believes that the war needs to end and that the South will not win. What he does, he does because he knows it is the right thing to do. His conscience weighs heavily on him.”
“I know the guilt he feels. It rages within me as well. When the war is finally over, it will take a lifetime for the wounds to heal…if at all,” Cullen acknowledged.
“If there is guilt to be felt, it should be with the South’s poor leadership that got them in this mess to begin with,” Jonathan stated firmly. “And their damnable pride. So many lost over what should have never happened.”
“I doubt many Southerners will hold that sentiment.” Cullen tapped ash from his cigar. “Speaking of Andrew, you said that he has said nothing to you about Buck or a possible shooting.”
“No. He only mentioned Buck when he talked of Gavin’s stabbing,” Hugh insisted. “Andrew told me that he would be keeping an eye on Buck. That he was dangerous, but nothing more. I will look into it further. I am to return to Beaufort at the end of the week.”
“There is also Harry Lee. I need to find out where he is at, also. He could present an even larger problem if there is any truth to Percival’s story.”
“Why, though, would Josephine not tell anyone?” Jonathan shook his head.
“I will try to get the information out of Josephine when the time is right. I’m not sure she is in any condition to be pressed at the moment. One minute she is fine, the next weeping.”
“Give her time, son. She has been through a great deal. When I had lunch with her yesterday, she was concerned whether she would get to see Madeline on our return. Why would she question whether she would see her child as though you are holding it over her head?”
“That is what I was saying. She has unreasonable fears…The first night, she thought I wanted her dead!”
Hugh frowned. “I would believe it would be expected. She was in a solitary prison cell for over eight months. Even though other women sympathetic to the Southern cause have been incarcerated at the Old Capitol Prison, such as Rose Greenhow and Belle Boyd, those women chose to walk in the prison yard when given the opportunity. I heard Belle Boyd flaunted herself. Josephine withdrew. She couldn’t even go to the window after hearing God knows what shouted at her from the street.
“When I visited her, she was always on the cot, rocking back and forth. Her mind had to be affected. She is a proud woman. She needs time to regain her dignity.”
Cullen ran his fingers through his hands. “I don’t need to be told,” he said. “I hold enough guilt within me.”
“Hopefully in time,” Jonathan said, turning the conversation back to the war.
Cullen stared at the closed bedroom door. He hoped so.
Chapter Nine
Josephine had woken this morning in such high hopes. Today, she was traveling by train to Philadelphia. More importantly, by evening she would be reunited with her daughter. Oh, how she had missed her baby! Since the moment she had handed Madeline over to Cullen’s father, there had been a void in her heart.
She had worried so about her little girl. She hadn’t wanted to give her daughter to Mr. Smythe, but at the time, she hadn’t a choice…Madeline had a fever. She couldn’t have kept her. Jo shuddered to think what would have happened if Madeline had stayed with her. No, she had made the right decision, but it had hurt…the last eight months had been so painful.
The joy she felt slowly dissipated over the journey. Across from her, Percival slept in Cullen’s lap. Her young son had left her side to be by Cullen. It was absurd to hold it against Cullen that Percival had taken to him so readily. The child had never had Wade around…the damn war.
She felt like weeping. What was wrong with her? She should be happy she was no longer in that horrible prison. The childr
en were safe and…seemingly quite happy. Why then did it feel like a black cloud descended on her?
No, Jo silently promised herself. This day she would be happy…she would have both of her children back in her arms. Madeline was hers and no one else’s. There had been a bond between mother and daughter since the moment Madeline was born.
She refused to contemplate what Cullen had planned. There had been a time when she would have had her heart’s desire to be his wife, but not like this. He married her for only one reason, Percival, and she married him why? Because she didn’t have another option.
In all, the marriage was nothing more than a sham. He hadn’t come near her since they exchanged vows, said nary a word. She pressed her lips together in thought. She had to accept what was given her…she had to be close to Percival and keep Madeline.
Josephine looked up to find Cullen staring at her. She broke from his gaze and stared out the window until the train slowed at their station.
****
Jo’s frayed nerves could not take much more. She had spent so much time thinking of her children. She had forgotten her in-laws, Cullen’s stepmother and sister. Monica Smythe had been kind to her on her last visit to Philadelphia, but much had happened since that time…moreover the fact that Elizabeth’s best friend had been Kathleen. The closer the carriage came to Cullen’s home, the greater her anxiety mounted.
She could only imagine what Cullen’s family must think of her! She had not had one correspondence from either Cullen’s stepmother or sister during her imprisonment. The only letters she received from anyone had been from Jonathan Smythe.
The carriage pulled to a stop. If not for Percival’s excitement, Jo would have panicked.
“I want you to see my room, Momma,” Percival cried, reaching for his mother’s hand.